by Jo Briggs
Evan closed the door of the library behind them and pulled her towards him. “Now, where were we?” he said, pressing his lips to hers as he placed his hands on her hips, drawing her as close as their bodies would allow.
As their tongues teased, he shifted their position, pushing her back against the upper part of the door. Sliding his palms up, from her hips to her breasts, he began to move each one in a circular motion over the nipples that protruded through her dress. Layla let out a gasp as the tingling that his touch induced began to spread throughout her. She arched her back in response.
“Mmm, do you like that?” he whispered as he moved his mouth behind her ear to nibble on her lobe.
Layla’s hands urgently felt their way up and down his shirt-covered torso in return. “Oh, yes,” she answered, impatiently pulling out the neatly tucked shirttails from his waistband, and ripping all the buttons off their threads in the process as she parted the material to feel the washboard stomach concealed beneath. Leaning over, she pressed her lips to his exposed chest.
Stunned by this different side to Layla, he felt torn between feeling utterly turned on and concerned as to whether she would regret things once the alcohol dispersed from her veins. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked prudently.
“Yes, I want to do this.”
She spoke with such strong conviction, backing up her words by placing her hand over his erection and squeezing it gently, that he finally allowed himself to put his apprehension aside.
Evan slid his hands around her back, and down to cup her soft arse, moulding her to him as he ground his building erection against her lower body. “Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed. With his hands supporting her bottom and the light pressure of her back against the door, she obliged him instinctively.
Capturing her lips once more, Evan carried her effortlessly over to the leather sofa and laid her down on the plump cushions. Moving to hover over her, he placed one knee on the cushion between her thighs as his other leg levered support on the floor, allowing his hands easy access to her apex.
All the while keeping eye contact, Evan pushed her dress up to her waist. His fingers pulled at the thin elastic holding up her thong, sliding the crotch area to one side before probing inside to seek out the hidden, pulsating clit. As his fingertips made contact, Layla emitted a soft murmur of his name, lifting her hips upwards greedily as his fingers swirled around the nub of flesh.
“Layla...” The desperate sound of her name vibrated from his chest as her hand caught him unawares as it skimmed over his shaft, massaging it gently, as she cupped it through the material.
Feeling his need, she moved her hand to his waistband and began to unzip his trousers, pulling them down roughly to free his bulging boxer shorts. “Jesus,” he muttered with a desperate breathlessness to his voice; the sudden release of pressure on his groin providing him with an exquisite rush of lust.
Evan hungrily pushed her back against the cushion with the bulk of his body, as an urgent primal need sparked violently between them while his mouth explored hers feverishly.
Sliding down Layla’s body, he dragged himself to a standing position, taking her thong with him. Casting the offending item aside, he stepped out of his trousers and flung them carelessly towards the nearby footrest. Evan then lifted her into his arms once more as she hooked her legs over his hips so as he sat back down on the sofa she was facing him.
As Layla shifted in his lap, placing a leg either side of him, the friction of his raging hardness rubbed torturously against the soft folds of her sex. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he groaned, burying his face in her hair before reclaiming her lips.
“Show me,” she pleaded, a low moan escaping her throat.
Lifting herself off the sofa, Layla impatiently pulled at Evan’s boxers, gliding her hands over his firm bottom as the material eased down his legs. Her eyes flashed with eager anticipation
Reaching for her again, Evan pulled her back onto his lap, her legs astride him as his hands sought her hips, before bending his head to nuzzle the curved length of her neck with his mouth. Lifting his caressing mouth from her collarbone, his hands began to wander up, past her ribs to her breasts, teasing the nipples beneath the material with his fingers and causing breathy gasps of pleasure to escape her lips.
Layla’s eager hips rotated rhythmically against his groin to ease the building pressure on her swollen clitoris, where her heated blood was pooling as his lips moved to suck her now painfully hardened nipples, first left then right.
Moving one of his hands on to her hips to still her flexing pelvis, Evan spoke huskily, “Let’s get this off you before I rip it off.”
Bringing his other hand down to her other hip, he gathered up the material of the dress before tugging it swiftly over her head. Layla’s eyes widened with heightened yearning as she maintained eye contact with him and bent her elbows back to unhook her bra.
At the sight of her pert breasts springing free, Evan exhaled a sharp breath and leant closer to recommence caressing them, causing Layla to tilt her head backwards and her facial muscles to form an expression of unadulterated gratification.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, as he twirled his tongue and nipped at her nipples softly with his teeth. His hands roamed south to the apex of her thighs, sliding two fingers deep within her, before pushing them in and out in a sensuous rhythm, triggering a loud cry of joy from her mouth.
“Please Evan,” she begged
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
The utterance was his undoing as he positioned her more centrally in his lap and guided her downward onto his shaft, her muscles contracting around his length, filling her perfectly. Unable to wait any longer, he cupped his hands beneath her bottom and plunged himself deeper into her wet core as she began to move downwards. Their rhythm soon matched intuitively as they continued to kiss and stroke one another. Her climax building relentless and fast, she cried out for him to thrust harder.
Turned on by Layla’s responsiveness, Evan pounded on and on, eking out every moment of her climax. Her inner walls quivered against him until he couldn’t hold on any longer. Crying out her name, he muffled the volume against her neck.
Breathless, they lay still. Evan sensed that, like him, she had never experienced anything quite so powerful before. It marked the beginning of something neither of them could resist.
Chapter Five
Layla
Layla strolled into the kitchen, yawning. “Mmm, that smells good,” she mumbled sleepily as she watched Evan put the finishing touches to two portions of scrambled eggs and toast on the counter nearby.
Turning around slightly, he smiled before answering, “The tea should be brewed by now. If you can pour that we should be ready to eat.”
Evan was wearing a dressing gown, which, loosely belted, showed off his bare, well-toned chest and perfect v shaped abs that disappeared below the pyjamas bottom hung low off his hips. As he turned away to dish up the breakfast on to two plates, Layla could not help but let her eyes drop to admire his tight arse. His bottom had always been her favourite part of his body, and she couldn’t help thinking that it still looked perfect and pert. She blushed inwardly at the delicious thoughts the man still provoked within her.
Layla felt the urge to lean in right now and pinch it. It used to be a regular occurrence that she would sneak up behind Evan and fondle him, catching him unawares. Usually, those incidents had led on to many lovemaking sessions over a piece of furniture. A warm, tingling sensation invaded, deep between her legs, as Layla thought back to a time when they had made love on this kitchen floor, and across the table. Life had been so carefree back then, before the miscarriage and Caggie's intervention.
Pouring the tea into two large mugs, Layla sat down at the table as Evan brought over the food. They ate in silence as she fought to keep her eyes from wandering over the parts of his chest that the gaping gown exposed.
�
�Did you sleep well?” he asked, interrupting her concentration.
“Yes, thanks, as soon as my head hit the pillow. Think the time-zone change took its toll,” Layla replied, trying to keep her tone casual and indifferent.
“Is there anything in particular that you need to do today?”
She shook her head. “I don't have anything too pressing until after the weekend, other than to touch base with my assistant and interior designer.”
“Interior designer?”
“Yes, I just need to finalise a few last-minute details for my house and the office space. Now that I’m making Yorkshire my permanent home, I plan to move my design team up here from London in the coming months. I’m looking forward to being able to work while looking out at the countryside. The house has its own little forest and stream, and a stable area.”
A surprised expression flickered over Evan’s face. “Do you still ride then?”
“Not as much as I’d like, but I intend to change that. This move is going to totally alter how my life has been up until now. I’m fed up with the fast pace in town, and looking forward to some peace and tranquillity for Bennett and me.” Layla casually injected the name into the conversation to see how Evan would react, unsure of whether he even knew she had a child at all. After a good night’s sleep, she was ready to push through their initial awkwardness and untangle their past misunderstandings properly.
“Sounds idyllic,” he began and then paused. “You know, I’ve got plenty of horses. Would you like to go riding today and blow away the city air cobwebs?”
“Perfect idea,” she replied. “If you can give me an hour or so to make a few phone calls, I’m all yours.”
Getting up from the table, Layla began to place the plates and mugs into the dishwasher. She was curious why Evan had not asked who Bennett was; maybe he recalled Cameron telling him she had a child of that name. Layla hoped to be able to buy enough time to build a positive rapport with Evan, because she was going to need any advantage in her favour once he found out everything. But, if he started questioning the boy’s existence in finer detail, even before she was ready, she would not lie to him. There had already been too many untruths spun by others, affecting them both.
Nodding, Evan picked up some pieces of paper from the counter and made his excuses to go talk to his estate manager, David.
Over an hour later, Layla still had her phone attached to her ear as she scribbled things down on a notepad. Looking up suddenly, she saw Evan leaning up against the doorframe, watching her. She could have sworn she caught a glimpse of longing flash within his sapphire eyes before he concealed it once again.
Layla felt flustered under his intense stare at first, especially since he looked so delicious in his riding outfit of a pair of black riding boots, beige jodhpurs and a pale grey, ribbed jumper, which rippled perfectly against his chest. Mouthing a silent “sorry” to him, she began to wind up her conversation with her designer.
“Sorry, I didn't realise the time. I’ll be right with you,” she apologised, before rushing upstairs to change her outfit. In her room she pulled on a pair of jet-black leggings with an etched, jacquard pattern printed upon them. Next she chose a cerulean-blue, strappy tunic that hugged her body tightly, skimming over her hips before ending below her shapely behind, and a pair of matching black, knee-high boots. Not quite riding attire, she thought, but it would do.
Evan
As Layla descended the stairs into the hallway, Evan held his breath as he drank in the way in which she could look beautiful even in an ordinary riding outfit. His eyes enjoyed the generous view of her bosom as it bounced with every step. What I would do to be able to touch them again. He had come up with the perfect plan to take her riding out to their special place, hoping to prompt her willingness to talk about their past, although he was not looking forward to her reaction to Caggie’s latest trick.
“Ready at last,” Layla said, offering an apologetic smile.
“The stable hand is preparing Molly for you. She’s a beautiful chestnut thoroughbred who is three years old. She’s seventeen hands, but that should be suitable for you,” Evan started to explain as they walked the five hundred metres from the house to the stable and paddock area.
Pointing to a horse that was being rubbed down in the distance, he continued casually, “She’s sired from my horse, Fitz, and Pepper,” while sneaking a sidelong glance at Layla to evaluate her reaction. He had bought the filly for her within a week of them living together.
“Is Pepper still here?” she asked, surprised.
“Of course she’s here. I wouldn't sell her for the world,” he said, with more emotion in his voice than he had wanted to show.
“Would you mind if I rode her instead?”
“Yes, of course you can. She still belongs to you,” Evan said quietly. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable by mentioning her,” he added, not glancing at her.
Layla turned to look at him head-on, placing a hand on his forearm to prevent him from walking for a second. “Evan, I know we need to sit down and talk about everything, but I want to say here and now that I do regret how things turned out.” Guilt was written all over her face.
Somewhat startled, Evan’s pose stiffened and he remained silent, keeping his face turned away. He had not expected her to offer an apology at that point. When he finally lifted his eyes to Layla’s face, and saw tears brimming up in her eyes, his stance softened at once. Wrapping his arms around her body, he kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay, babes. It was a long time ago.” The casual endearment slipped off his tongue before he could stop it, and Layla snuggled up against his warm frame hesitantly.
“Let's go and see Pepper, shall we?” Evan offered gently. Moving away from Layla briefly, he slipped a hand into hers and she laced her fingers with his.
They took the rest of the walk to the stables slowly. First, Layla met the horse she was originally due to ride, sharing several treats with her as Evan asked the stable hand to bring out Pepper instead. Sometime later, the couple were astride their rides and galloping through the sprawling meadows of Evan’s estate. The large stretch of land could take a fast horse a generous twenty minutes to cover.
Leading the way, he guided Layla through a small woodland area before revealing a secluded clearing. A look of recognition flickered over her features as Evan dismounted and went over to help her, his hands gliding over the sides of her body as she slid gently down from her horse and into his waiting arms.
“It still looks the same,” Layla said breathlessly, her eyes glancing over his shoulder to drift over the spring flowers and weeping willows, which could probably tell a story or two from the last two hundred years.
“Do you mind being here?” Evan asked curiously.
“No, I’m sure every path we could take with the horses would lead to some place or other that we’ve been to before,” she replied softly. “We have probably covered every inch of your estate at one time or another.”
Evan smiled at the thought and nodded. “You’re probably right.” They had spent nearly two years living together here, with frequent idyllic afternoons spent riding for hours on end, often finishing up by making love in a sheltered, outdoor space. They were always touching each other in some way, to satisfy their insatiable need for one another.
Still holding the woman in his arms, her perfume consuming his senses, Evan took a deep breath before beginning to speak. “Layla, about before, I want you to know I forgave you a long time ago for how things finished. Now that you’re going to be living in Yorkshire, and with Ava and Cameron married, and living nearby, I don't want you and me to be awkward strangers anymore.” As the words spilled from his mouth, the tips of his fingers traced the outline of her jaw, his eyes searching hers. “I want us to be able to enjoy each other's company without any embarrassment.”
“Evan, I admit it was awkward at first, but you’ve been so kind to me, probably much more than I deserve. I have thoroughly enjoyed being here w
ith you and, dare I say it, I’ve realised how much I missed you.” Her mouth held a rueful smile.
With that, Evan leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Emotion and passion taking over, the kiss deepened rapidly, his tongue entwining with hers as their hands wandered to caress the other's torso. “Layla,” he groaned. “You’re so beautiful. You are driving me to distraction.”
Ending the kiss, she leaned back to look at him and teased, “You think you don't distract me?”
“Do I?” His expression echoed one of surprise, his eyes flickering with a tinge of hope.
“Yes, of course! You’re still damned sexy, even if you are in your thirties now!”
Evan’s lips claimed Layla’s once more, before trailing down her slender neck and shoulder. Ignoring any coherent thoughts that they were moving too fast, he lifted her up in his arms and leaned her against a nearby tree trunk, where he could continue to ravish her body. His hands found their way beneath her top, caressing her flat stomach before wandering inside her bra; his fingertips finding her hardened nipples as she arched her body against him.
“Oh, Evan,” Layla gasped, breathlessly.
Evan guessed that she must be aware of the spreading warmth in his groin as he instinctively pressed himself hard against her. As he continued to assault her breasts with teasing caresses, he felt her hands wander to the waistband of his trousers, stroking him through the material. Evan took a harsh intake of breath as he enjoyed the moment of Layla rubbing his cock. “God, we should stop before we get too carried away,” he breathed.
“Don't you want to ravish me then?” She laughed, half-jokingly, as they pulled apart.
“Mmm, you don't know how much I do want to do exactly that, but I don't want to spoil things when we’re just getting to know each other again,” he said sensibly.
She smiled. “You’re probably right.”
